‘No, I don’t. I mean the full transmogrification – brainwaves and everything. I mean who or what has that kind of power?’
‘Hmm,’ Matthias looked thoughtful. ‘That’s some powerful magic. Odin used to be fond of that sort of thing of course. Very into the genetic engineering thing, as they call it now in quantum circles.’
‘Odin?’ but he couldn’t do that. He was just a god … wasn’t he?’
‘Ah, but if he was only a god, then why didn’t he go the way of the rest of them?’ Matthias said.
‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Tamar, in sudden alarm.
‘Oh, old Odin’s still around.’
‘He is?’
‘Oh yes, most certainly.’
So, not just a god then?’
‘I have no idea my dear. No idea, not my area. I do know he still has many worshippers, which might account for it if he were.’
‘That wouldn’t explain the, what did you call it, genetic engineering?’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Matthias. ‘Anyway, I didn’t say for certain that he was your man …’
‘God.’
‘… God. Just that he might be.’
‘So, what else is likely responsible?’
‘Could be a Djinn of course,’ said Matthias. ‘But I doubt it.’
‘So do I,’ said Tamar emphatically. She had already discarded this idea at the beginning as unlikely, being as the Djinn could only access their power by means of a direct wish from a human, and what human would make such a wish? Humans were crazy, but not, in her experience, as crazy as that.
‘A bio engineer looking for a Nobel Prize,’ said Matthias as if reading her thoughts.
‘Bollocks,’ scoffed Tamar.
‘I suppose, so,’ said Matthias mildly.
‘I should be going,’ said Tamar. ‘Thanks for your insights anyway. I’ll have a think about it. And Matthias?’
‘Yes?’
‘What’s with the shaggy beard? You look like an old hermit’
‘Well, it’s a look, isn’t it?’ he said in a hurt voice. ‘I thought it made me look venerable.’
‘Just scruffy really,’ she said scathingly and vanished.
‘She hasn’t changed at all.’ said Matthias to the space that she had just vacated.
* * *
Jack Stiles gingerly slipped his hand into the gauntlet and waited. It only took seconds before the filigree tendrils began extending through the skin and into the nerves in his arm. Although they had seen it before, (except Finvarra) they all watched fascinated as the tendrils writhed under the surface of his skin extending up his arm and into his central nervous system.
When it stopped, Stiles looked up sharply and opened his eyes – they glowed briefly and then faded to normal.
‘Are we certain this is absolutely necessary?’ he asked, somewhat belatedly.
The problem here was that once the gauntlet was attached, there was no way to remove the damn thing. It just came off when it wanted to – or at least so it seemed. The last time he had worn it, it had removed itself after its purpose had been served. Created by the Tuatha god Leir as a means of preserving and passing on his power, the wearer became the Avatar of Leir possessing his knowledge and power as a means to continue the fight against the Sidhe. As far as anyone knew, no previous owner of the gauntlet had ever been able to shed it until their death. But then, none of them had ever fulfilled its purpose and defeated the Sidhe. Stiles had.
Now he was putting it on for a second time, and who knew whether it would ever come off again. He had not even been certain that it would attach, and a part of him had fervently hoped that it would not. It was not pleasant having another’s thoughts and memories roaming around in one’s head.
‘Well?’ said Denny.
‘Give me a minute,’ said Stiles impatiently. He closed his eyes.
‘The brethren of Leir fled into the hills and mounds,’ he said somewhat pompously. He always talked like this when he was channelling Leir; it was very different to the way he normally talked which made it easy for the others to tell which one of them was speaking.
‘Some diminished, but a great many more did not. A way was found to survive. They became wraiths, spirits. Ascension was achieved. They left their physical bodies. They are now the spirits of wood and water, of lakes, rivers, forests and hills. To answer your question, yes, they are here still, in a manner of speaking. But there is fear. A great enemy of old seeks them now. I feel its presence also. A terrible war approaches. The Tuatha will rise again, take new physical form, and fight the enemy, though they have little hope of victory, and this world and all its people will be swept away in the ensuing battle for dominion.’
This extraordinary statement was met with shocked silence. They had asked the question and been told much more and far worse than they had expected.
‘It is the Tuatha who have been influencing your minds,’ said Stiles in his ordinary voice. ‘All that stuff about taking a new physical body – they’ve been doing that for a long time. All it means it they can inhabit a human body if they want to. They can take over completely and run the body or they can just live there and make suggestions – you’d never know they were there.’
‘You mean I’m possessed?’ screeched Denny in absolute horror. (This was getting worse and worse.) ‘Tamar too?’
‘They were not intentionally influencing your behaviour,’ said Stiles as if he was reading from some invisible script inside his head and incidentally answering Denny’s question. ‘It was a side effect of the inhabitation. They chose the strongest – you, Tamar, and others like you, in order to be ready for the enemy that is coming.’
‘And when this enemy arrives they were just going to take over our minds completely and have us fight this enemy for them? I don’t think so,’ said Denny. ‘How do I get it out of me?’
‘The spirit has already gone,’ said Stiles. ‘Once you knew it was there, you were no longer a viable host. You would have fought for control and probably won. Taking control of the body relies on the host’s obliviousness to the spirit’s presence.’
‘The element of surprise,’ said Denny with grim humour. ‘I see.’
‘But Tamar is still …’ began Cindy.
‘It’s strange,’ said Stiles shaking his head. ‘But the one inhabiting Tamar was cast out shortly after she left here.’
‘How do you know that?’ snapped Denny.
‘Leir is telling me, we can hear their thoughts.’
‘“We” again,’ thought Denny. Stiles had talked like this the last time. It had been unnerving then too.
‘Cast out how?’ he asked.
‘I do not know, it was not her. She had no idea of its presence.’
‘So, she didn’t come home because …?’
‘We don’t know what her reasons might have been,’ said Cindy. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions.’
Denny looked mutinous but kept silent.
‘How many others have been affected?’ Cindy asked, and Denny realised that he should have asked this himself.
‘Many,’ said Stiles enigmatically. ‘Sorcerers, Witches, Necromancers. All humans with extraordinary powers. There are more than you think.’
‘Me?’ asked Cindy nervously wondering if she wanted the answer to be yes or no.
‘Indeed,’ said Stiles.
‘I’d have preferred no,’ thought Cindy.
‘But no longer,’ he added, to her relief.
‘So, let me get this straight,’ said Denny. ‘We have all been acting out of character because we have been possessed by the spirits of the Tuatha de Danann. Who wanted to use our bodies in some great battle that’s coming up, is that about right?’
‘You have not been possessed,’ corrected Stiles. ‘You have been inhabited. The spirits are not making you do anything – as yet. But you may have been prey to subtle influences that have exacerbated your behaviour. Perhaps you were even aware of them on a subconscious level, and it m
ade you behave in certain uncharacteristic ways. I cannot say.’
Denny looked at Cindy. ‘Oh, I think we’ve been acting in very uncharacteristic ways at times,’ he said
‘Of course, an inhabitation can adversely affect your moral centre,’ said Stiles. ‘The Tuatha have a different set of moral values to humans, perhaps equally valid perhaps not. But their influence would probably be felt. You might follow an impulse toward behaviour that you would normally restrain in yourself out of a sense of morality or shame. The Tuatha do not understand shame. Perhaps that is what you mean?’
Denny nodded. ‘I think that is what I mean,’ he said.
Cindy looked at her shoes; she was scarlet with embarrassment.
‘But the original impulse toward that behaviour would have been your own,’ added Stiles.
‘All right, all right,’ said Denny testily. ‘There’s no need to hammer it home. We get the picture.’
‘Well, said Finvarra suddenly, ‘now that we have got all that out of the way. What about this wretched war that’s coming? I mean I thought all you hero types would have been all over that one.’
‘That’s right,’ said Denny with no apparent sense of irony. ‘What’s the deal with that, anyway? You said the world would be swept away. By whom? Who is this enemy that they’re all so afraid of anyway?’
But at that moment, the damn gauntlet fell off. Stiles gave Denny a blank look. ‘What are you talking about mate?’ he said.
Denny groaned. ‘Oh hell!’
~ Chapter Seven ~
‘It’s Armageddon,’ said Denny flatly to the others now assembled in the study. Cindy and Finvarra, of course, already knew. Dawber, Stiles and Hecaté, by reason of their being absent, (either in body or at least in Stiles’s case, in mind) when the revelations of Leir had been made, did not.
‘What – again?’ said Stiles and Hecaté in unison.
‘Hey, what do they mean, again?’ asked Dawber nervously.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ advised Cindy. ‘It’s par for the course around here, it’ll all be sorted out in the end, you’ll see.’
‘We need Tamar,’ said Denny. ‘You,’ he pointed to Dawber, ‘can you get me into this agency or not?’
‘I-I can try.’ stammered Dawber.
‘When?’
‘Er … now?’ asked Dawber uncertainly.
‘We’ll leave in an hour,’ confirmed Denny.
‘That’ll give you time to make your peace with God before you go. I would.’ said Stiles wickedly.
‘Jack!’ said Hecaté in a shocked voice. ‘That was not kind.’
‘We’ll try to find out about these animal abductions while we’re at it,’ said Denny apparently not hearing this exchange. ‘But our first priority is to find and retrieve Tamar, okay?’
‘Okay, sir,’ said Dawber reflexively and without apparent sarcasm.’
Denny raised an eyebrow. ‘There’s no need for that,’ he said.
‘Now, how can we find out who else has been “inhabited” by the Tuatha? Any ideas?’
‘I’m not putting that sodding gauntlet back on,’ said Stiles.
‘No one’s asking you to,’ said Denny shortly. ‘I doubt it would help anyway. Leir clearly didn’t want to tell us any more than he did.’
‘But without his help, how can we hope to track down the others?’ said Cindy.
‘There is more than one god in this room,’ said Hecaté unexpectedly. ‘I shall try to sense their location.’
‘Good,’ said Denny. But I need a backup plan. Anyone?’
‘We’ll come back to that,’ he said, when no ideas were forthcoming. ‘The other thing we need to do is find out who the enemy of the Tuatha is and how much of a danger he – or she poses. Also, when they are expected.’
‘That sort of research is usually your thing,’ pointed out Cindy.
‘I’m going to be busy.’ said Denny. ‘Give it a try, it’s not hard.’
‘I’m no hacker,’ said Cindy, ‘but I suppose I’ll do my best.’
‘I’ll get you started,’ offered Denny.
‘Investigation is really more my area,’ said Stiles. Clearly wondering why this detail had been palmed off on Cindy. ‘Oh, I get it, you don’t know if you can trust me.’
Denny looked awkward. ‘You and Cind work together,’ he said coming to a decision.
‘And what shall I do?’ asked Finvarra expectantly.
‘Oh, er,’ Denny floundered. ‘Well …’
‘He is the distant kin of the Tuatha,’ said Hecaté. ‘He shall also see if he cannot locate their whereabouts. I shall show him the technique. It may well be that he shall have more success that I. he is closer in nature to them than I am.’
‘Okay, good,’ said Denny recovering his poise. ‘That’s a good idea. He gave Hecaté a warm smile.
‘We also have a wedding to arrange,’ she said suddenly. ‘Armageddon or not, some things are important. Too often do we put our lives on hold for these things and what is the result? Unhappiness, disruption, dislocation. Do not argue with me Denny.’
‘I wasn’t going to.’ he said. ‘I think you’re right, but everything’s already arranged – except the bride.’ he added sotto voce.
‘You are taking care of that.’ said Hecaté crisply.
‘Wedding?’ said Dawber. ‘Oh my god, yes. I remember. All those dress fittings.’ He looked at Denny compassionately. ‘For what it’s worth, I reckon she’d turn up anyway. No one would go to all that trouble over an outfit, if she didn’t intend to wear it.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ said Stiles slapping Dawber heartily on the back and Denny remembered Stiles himself saying much the same thing recently.
They all looked at Denny. ‘So, why hasn’t she come back yet?’ he challenged.
Everyone looked at the floor.
‘Right,’ said Denny. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
* * *
They had come by car, there being no way to teleport to an unknown location, and Dawber had lost his way several times to Denny’s ill concealed chagrin. However, they were now standing in a large aircraft hangar, which Dawber insisted was the right place. Denny was sceptical.
‘Okay, how do we get in?’ he said.
‘I swiped this from Agent Rook,’ said Dawber, holding up what looked like a security card. ‘They’ll read it and bring us in. I just hope Agent Rook is out at the moment, otherwise … ah, here we go.’ A bright red light beam shone out, and Dawber immediately waved the card in front of it. There was a loud beep. ‘Confirmed,’ said Dawber. ‘Be ready to fight in case there’s anyone in the control room,’ he said.
‘I’m ready,’ said Denny grimly. And then they were brought inside.
It was the most horrible sensation Denny had ever experienced – since the last time he had experienced it anyway, which had been quite recently.
‘Who the hell are these people anyway,’ he said when they arrived in the control room which was, fortunately, empty. He sounded frightened. He was. He had a feeling of being trapped that was so strong he was close to panic.
He looked around the room, frantically seeking a way out, while Dawber watched him curiously.
‘The way out is there,’ he said pointing to a door.
‘No,’ gasped Denny, ‘that’s just a way further in. This whole place is one big trap,’ he said. ‘Can’t you feel it?’
Dawber shrugged. ‘We should go, before they find us in here,’ he said.
Denny pulled himself together. ‘Right,’ he said. But he could hardly believe that Tamar, of all people, would have chosen to stay here. Not her, not here. Of course, it had been specially designed to prevent escape. He was not even sure that he himself would ever get out. Perhaps Dawber had been wrong; perhaps she was trapped here, just as he feared he was. He felt his throat tighten. ‘Don’t panic,’ he admonished himself. ‘You’ve got out of worse situations.’
But the truth was he had not. No one ever had – not without outside help. That
was kind of the point of a Djinn’s bottle.
It was massive inside, much larger than Tamar’s bottle had been, but he knew that theoretically her bottle could have been this large inside if she had wanted it to be. A horrible thought struck him; this could not be her bottle, could it? No, that had been destroyed. What did it matter who’s bottle it had been. The result was the same; no one got out from the inside. Someone outside had to be pulling the strings on this operation. He was going to find out who it was and shove the bottle down his throat. The thought made him feel a little better.
‘Where’s Tamar?’ he said to Dawber.
‘Team Alpha control room, probably,’ answered Dawber. ‘This way.’
Denny followed him cautiously down an endless corridor. They passed several people, none of whom took the slightest notice of them. This was not too surprising. Evidently, there were hundreds of people here, and no one could be expected to know them all. Unfamiliar faces were probably not unusual, and the chances were that there had never before been a security breach here.
The Team Alpha control room was deserted, and Dawber shrugged helplessly. ‘There’s always the cafeteria,’ he said. ‘Or we could wait here. They’re bound to come back eventually.’
‘Here’s better,’ said Denny. ‘Less people, but … let’s have a look at the canteen then. We can just see if she’s there and then maybe wait for her outside.’
It was not much of a plan, as Denny was painfully aware, but there was nothing better, and it was probably pointless anyway. There was no way out of here even if he did find her. He realised that he just wanted to find her, no matter what happened next. He just wanted to see her, needed to see her, to tell her he was sorry.’
His thoughts skidded round in the midst of his despair. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘How did you escape from this place, anyway?’
‘I just gave Rook the slip when we were on surveillance,’ said Dawber. ‘I thought I told you.’
‘Yeah, that’s right, you did,’ said Denny suddenly subdued. ‘So, why did you take Rook’s card, then? Surely you didn’t think, back then, that you’d be coming back?’
‘Oh, no, I didn’t. The truth is I never expected to get away from Rook. If he hadn’t gone for a leak, I’d never have gotten away. I took the card to escape from here. I don’t have one. Only senior Agents have them.’
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